


A Different Kind of Magic

by Bunnylope



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Hospitals, M/M, dont worry my children, no one dies, nothing is graphically depicted besides the injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnylope/pseuds/Bunnylope
Summary: Switch drama and angst ensues-- more of a general Switch fic with flecks of Natsusora. Natsume has trouble realizing his feelings.





	A Different Kind of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> I love my son why did i do this

Sora Harukawa could be described as a boy reminiscent of the sun. The bright laugh that is a staple through the Yumenosaki corridors, the way he bounces on his heels when people talk to him, or even when he flashes that slightly crooked smile that warms those that need it; he’s the town’s sunshine. Nobody knew exactly why he acted like this. 

Back when he was young kids got rubbed the wrong way by his antics of kicking off walls and talking much unlike everyone else. That is still found to this day as well-- the never ending vibrance and peculiarity that Sora possesses is off putting to those that first greet him. He learned to not be bothered by those hushed murmurs and confused looks and strived to take each day with another giggle and a grin. 

Imagine the unbridled, unwavering delight he felt when he found a true family to call his own. Thankfully he was blessed with a beautiful voice-- he himself is humble about it, but all that hear him sing are stunned into wondering how an angel was able to grace them. Of course this talent landed him in one of the most prestigious schools for the practice of training idols. 

It was scary when Sora first went to this high school. As classes let out the hallways quickly became a hustle and bustle of people, none of which he knew. Crowded places give him trouble. What someone can view as just a congested hall Sora views as a place where he has to hold his breath. All of the conflicted sounds and colors blur together in his head and it gets tough to tell what’s happening around him. It gets hot, and he easily gets overwhelmed and dizzy if it gets to a certain extent. 

He hasn’t always known that he was different. It wasn’t until a few boys went and yelled at him that he was a complete freak did Sora even consider that anything was out of the ordinary. It was the first time Sora felt tears in his sea blue eyes in a long time. He had almost forgot what it felt like to cry his eyes out and feel like they would never stop, as if the faucet broke and couldn’t be fixed, as if he was assigned to flood the world. Those words caused a fracture somewhere. It was enough for him to realize that people don’t see things the way he does. 

It was at that point in that overflowing hallway did he think he was going to cry like that again. Millions of colors blurred together in his head with so many different emotions that were cramming inside his skull, all while being surrounded by people taller and scarier than him. He felt as though he was going to melt right there in that crowd. 

What happened after that was hard to say. Apparently someone attempted to get his attention which didn’t completely work the first time. They had to resort to grabbing his arm and pulling him into a nearby empty classroom-- All Sora can remember clearly was sitting in the chair and resting his head in his trembling hands, trying to catch his breath and steady himself. The thrumming buzz in his head ebbed away only to leave him with a dull headache. Blinking a few times, he was finally able to get a look at his surroundings. The classroom was boring and looked practically identical to any other in that school, the only difference being that a young, red-haired boy was kneeling in front of him, his sharp, analytical eyes filled with concern. The boy studied Sora for a moment before speaking. “Are you Alright?” 

His voice was unlike any color Sora had seen before; it sounded smooth, almost on the higher range of voices, but still sounding like new silk. He had to decipher the color in his head for a moment. The color was concerned, worried, but with a hint of confusion and uncertainty. The upperclassman seemed to be wondering why exactly he pulled this boy aside and why he didn’t just let him flounder like every other first year on the first day of school. It’s not like he would care anyway, so why did he suddenly care now?

Sora cleared his throat and took a deep breath, replying with, “Sora is okay… He just doesn’t mesh well with crowds, HaHa~” and he gives the boy one of his brilliantly shining grins. “Thank you for taking him aside and letting him catch his breath.” 

The boy’s name is Natsume. Natsume didn’t bother asking about his speech ticks, he has a few himself, there was no reason for him to ask. Little did he know that this peculiar boy would change his experience at this school for ages to come. 

Nobody could pinpoint when it all came together but the three just seemed like a trio that was meant to be-- by an unforeseen force or by fate. The three of them were opposite in so many ways but they were united by a singular aspect: they all had some sort of magic about them. Natsume’s magic was technical, clean cut, and by the book. He was a classic magician, one that would tell your fortune to make some cash under the table and one that would collect information about people to use against them when he would benefit. 

Tsumugi was an upperclassman that Sora instantly felt a connection to. He gave off a feeling of being welcome, at peace, and he seemed as though he would be a very good host if one were to visit his home. He is truly wise beyond his years. Only those who knew his past would realize that the way he acts is a slight facade. Natsume describes him as vile, a snake in the grass, someone who would give their happiness if it would benefit someone else no matter what side they support. Their relationship was a complex one filled with pain and betrayal but Sora knew that if those feelings were true their unit wouldn’t exist. 

Sora was the newbie of the group but he was never once treated like one. Tsumugi would teach him things about how to utilize your voice to the fullest potential and Natsume would adjust him whenever his foot was out of place during a choreography session. He was never treated like a child needing to be babied. They gave him respect and love so much that Sora always got excited when he went to the Game Research Club or to Switch practice, or even magic lessons with Natsume since he took him under his wing to hone his magic skills. 

Sora had a type of magic that one can only find when you’re not looking for it. Most magic is a gift that fades if one doesn’t utilize it, a skill that has to be practiced and honed to perfect. Sora was a special case that was born with magic radiating off of him, a magic that makes hairs stand on end and makes the air crackle with the potential power flowing through it. His magic is a diamond found in the dirt that needs to be polished with gentle hands, getting in all the nooks and crannies, making it shine like how it was made to be. Back in that bustling hallway Natsume spotted this natural born magic almost instantly. It intrigued him and he analyzed him as if he was his next science experiment, something that needs to be examined. Slowly that curiosity and intrigue turned into something much more passionate than that-- most people would deem it as “love.” He would never admit to that. 

On stage they had an electric vibe to them. Their music made the listener want to dance, it made them experience the power of the magic they all were bestowed with. Their performance is truly a lifetime experience which is saying something for a group that is so new. Nobody knows how they do it or how they manage to captivate the audience into watching their every move and mannerism. After the performance was over they would laugh backstage, Tsumugi would give Sora a warm hug and Natsume would ruffle his messy blonde hair with pride. Their magic is more powerful when they’re together and they were all truly the happiest they can be and they made the audience just as happy. 

None of them expected the glamour to fade so quickly. 

The sky was overcast, dull and drab. Students were advised to keep umbrellas or raincoats on hand for when in anticipation for bad weather at the end of the day. Natsume let out a strained sigh as he visited the Switch practice room and saw his senpai sitting on the couch reading a book while waiting for the other members to arrive. He glanced up and beamed at the unit leader only to be met with a face scrunched up in disgust. 

“You’re Early,” Natsume mentions in a sharp tone as he set his bag down and moves to shut the blinds on the windows. The rain starts pitter pattering on the window panes as he moves away from them. 

Tsumugi put a page marker in his book and pushes up his glasses as he replies, “I always arrive at this time. Hm, could it be that Sora just isn’t here yet and that’s how you judge the time?~” 

His smug tone left a sour taste in the younger boy’s mouth. Lately his senpai has been teasing him about their younger unit member and Natsume had no idea why it made his skin crawl when the comments came out of his mouth. Then again, he feels that way about most of the things he says. 

“Shut Up.”

The boy did just that and hums to himself as he turns around to peek out the blinds of the window to watch the rain. It hasn’t rained in a long while, so this was well deserved. The sun can’t shine permanently, after all; it needs its days off as much as anything else does. 

A small laugh escaped him in response to the boy’s snippy reply. “You’re quite cute, Natsume~ Precious, even.” His tone was laced with something hidden that Natsume detested. He always talked as though he knew more about the situation than he led on. He chose not to reply to that, but instead shot him a venomous glare. Yet, something in the back of his mind was curious. 

“What do you mean by That?” he questioned with a hint of regret for asking. 

There was a brief pause for Tsumugi to collect his thoughts. He weighed the pros and cons of telling him the truth like this. “If you hate me for saying this to you, feel free to do as you must to me if it’ll make you feel better. I’m only being this honest because Sora isn’t here,” he stops for a moment, sighs, and continues, “You’re never honest with anyone-- let alone yourself. You can’t go throughout life putting up a wall like this. I know you loathe talking to me… Or looking at me or being in the same room as me, but at least be a little bit honest for Sora’s sake. He looks up to you more than you can imagine, you know~” 

Natsume’s body felt tight. There was a tremble in his voice that he had trouble admitting to. “Somebody like you has no right to give me advice on how to be Truthful,  _ Senpai.” _

The conversation was dropped after that. Tsumugi shifted in his seat and avoided looking at his unit mate. Sora was always the one to keep the peace between the two of them. Normally he would never imagine telling Natsume what he truly thought, but it had to get out eventually. It’s like a dose of disgusting medicine that one has to take. 

Sora never arrived to the practice session. He didn’t arrive the day after that, either, or the day after that. It’s gotten to the point where they started to be a little bit concerned for him. He was probably just sick with a spring cold, Tsumugi pointed out, and they both shrugged and figured that was probably the case. 

It wasn’t until Natsume received a call from Sora’s phone did he think something was very wrong. 

He picked up the call and was about to ask Sora if he was doing okay but was cut off by a tense, frail, feminine voice that sounded too tired to be doing this right now. Her voice was exasperated but still had an airy ringing sound to it. He assumed that this was his mother. 

_ “Hi, this is Natsume, the leader of Sora’s little band, right?” _ She went silent for a moment as if trying to get the words out of her cotton filled mouth.  _ “This is his mother.”   _

Something in the pit of his stomach twisted as he listened to her. “Yes, that’s me. Is everything alright, Ms. Harukawa?”

He has never spoken to Sora’s mother before now. Sora had always chirped about how amazing she is and how she always gets him ice cream after his live shows. She was described as a bubbly person just like her son is. Right now, however, Natsume couldn’t believe that this woman with the trembling voice was the same one he always described. 

In a way, he didn’t even have to ask her that question. He already knew the answer in the back of his mind, whether it be from his fortune telling past or just the adrenaline talking for him. 

_ “I figured that you and the other boy in your group have a right to know where he is.” _ She cleared her throat, about to relay information just like she’s done so many times before in the past 72 hours.  _ “Sora has been in the hospital for the past few days. He... didn’t see the car coming.” _

The ground collapsed under Natsume’s feet. His voice came out hoarse, strained, and nobody has heard it like that before. “Can I talk to him?” 

Her discomfort on the phone was practically audible. They both felt backed into corners in their own different ways. She was forced to relay information that 24 hours ago she would have sobbed while speaking it. The information was numbing at this point, as if all her tears have dried up while realizing it won’t change anything about her son’s injuries. _ “He hasn’t woken up yet.” _

Every word she spoke was another rusty spike being hammered in Natsume’s stomach.  _ Sora doesn’t deserve this, _ he thought. He could’ve been there to help him, push him out of the way, he could’ve been there to protect him. He could’ve walked him home or kept him after practice a little bit longer. He’s a magician so why didn’t he  _ see  _ this? What kind of a mentor is he to allow Sora to play with fate? What kind of a mentor is he to allow Sora to be at the risk of death? 

Natsume’s mind swirls and overflows with ideas about what he could have done to prevent this. He asks himself why nobody helped him or warned him but this just causes his imagination to play the scene in his head. His cheeks felt wet and this was the most frail and vulnerable he’s felt in a long time. 

All he wanted was for Sora to wake up. 

_ “You two can visit him if you would like to. I’ll send you the hospital and room number, but… Seeing him like this is rough.” _ The words didn’t make any sense to him. They sounded fuzzy in his ear, almost as if he was dreaming and it was useless chatter. He managed to thank her but he wasn’t able to recognize his own voice. It sounded foreign, fragile, much unlike his usual tone. With the click of the receiver and the drop of the phone he found himself moving to sit in the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands. 

Natsume believes in punishment for those who do horrible deeds. He believes that the universe will make it a point to torture those who deserve it, people who murder, backstab, and the like. Why did the universe have to punish someone so innocent, someone without an evil bone in their body? Someone who just wants to make people laugh?

“It’s not Fair,” he mumbled to nobody in particular. 

He had no idea how much time had passed since he received the call, but was only pulled out of his trance when he heard the door creaking open. He hated the idea of somebody seeing him in this state, but it was out of his hands. All he could think about was Sora in a hospital bed hooked up to a million machines. 

“Natsume?” a familiar voice asked with concern. Natsume could feel his senpai sit next to him and rest a gentle hand on his back. Normally he would flinch, swat him away, or smack him for even considering laying a hand on him. Right now was no time for that. “Did something happen?” 

He didn’t want to reply. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of Sora dying any more than he has to. Despite the cat and dog antics with his Senpai, he deserves to know just as much as anyone else does. 

“Sora got hit by a car a few days ago and he’s been unconscious since then.” 

Tsumugi froze in his spot as he processed his words. He didn’t react quite the same way Natsume did: he didn’t blame himself or try and change the past. After a minute of silence he let out a gentle, “Oh, Sora…” and moved his hand to rub Natsume’s back in an attempt at comforting him. “Are we allowed to visit him?” 

Natsume turned his head a bit so he can look at him better. His eyes were dried out from tears. “His mother gave me the room Number.” 

“Good, good~ I can drive us up there if you’d like to go now,” he trails off when looking at Natsume’s beaten down expression and tired gaze in his eyes. “Or we can go when you think you’re ready to see him.” 

He turned his face back into his hands and mutters, “Give me 20 Minutes.” 

Tsumugi hums as Natsume swats his hand away from his back. 

~

Magicians can only work within reason. They can heal minor injuries, cast a few healing spells, and legend says that a few seasoned magicians can mend bones and revive the dead. Looking at Sora in this state made Natsume realize he was too far gone for his magical help. 

Being hooked up to so many sterile machines made Sora look so fragile and vulnerable. His arms were bruised a sickening shade of green and purple and neither of them wanted to imagine what his chest looked like underneath the thin blanket. As the two of them got closer to him they could see that his usual bright rosy cheeks were pale, hollowed out, his skin almost papery. If his mother wasn’t holding his hand on the other side of the bed they would have thought that he would collapse into dust at the lightest touch. This was a stranger, someone who took Sora’s face and physique. There’s no way a boy who mimicked the brightness of the sun could be in this state. 

His breathing was so shallow they were afraid at any second he would just stop entirely and give up on the pain. Natsume felt like he was going to unravel while looking at him. Something inside him was thankful that he isn’t awake to experience the excruciating pain. 

Although the room was a sterile white color, even in this state, Sora’s personality was everywhere. On the bedside table there were teddy bears of all colors and sizes, a few visibly well loved, and they both guessed that it was his favorite one from home. Get well soon balloons were tied to his bed and lazily drifting above him, as if to greet him when he woke up. There were a few vases of flowers scattered about the room and some were fresher than others. It was obvious that Sora is well loved. 

“His little sister and father just left,” Sora’s mother piped up as she rubbed circles with her thumb into Sora’s hand. “She didn’t take it well.” 

Tsumugi shifted his weight and looked at the ground. They both always forgot that Sora has a young sister at home. It hurt to imagine what she must be going through seeing her big brother like this. 

“If I saw my brother like this I wouldn’t take it well either,” he says softly while wringing his hands a bit, trying to avoid looking at Sora. Natsume. on the other hand. couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. 

“Sora’s a little trooper, isn’t he? The doctor said that if he wasn’t so young he would’ve been done for…” 

He knows that it’s rude not to reply to her but something inside Natsume just couldn’t get it out. It felt as though this was just a nightmare-- this nightmare was his punishment. It was his punishment for being an underhanded liar. 

“When do they expect him to wake up?” 

Dabbling in magic to use against those who go against him and bully him is deserving of punishment, right? Practicing the dark arts is enough for that, right? 

“He has a bad concussion and possible nervous system damage, how severe we don’t know yet-- for all we know he could be staying like this for a long time.” 

Maybe if he had been more truthful with those around him this never would have happened. Maybe if he had kept Sora after practice for a bit longer. Maybe if he took Tsumugi’s advice for once in his life. Maybe if he had told Sora how he truly felt about him.

He doesn’t want to lose his morning sun. 

What pushed him over the edge was the feeling of Tsumugi’s hand on his back once again. Natsume prided himself in being someone you have to try and figure out, someone who doesn’t show his true emotions, someone who leaves you confused and dazed, yet here he was, real tears streaming down his cheeks all because this brilliantly shining boy brought him to his knees. 

Sora’s magic is fragile, pure, and powerful. Sora’s magic is one of a kind, something you have to work at perfecting, and something that you need to cherish. Natsume doesn’t want to imagine living in a world deprived of his magic. His smile is magic, the skip in his step is magic, his presence is magic. None of them imagined it would be taken away so quickly.

A nurse came in to check his vitals and he could see his chest and stomach wrapped in bandages as she pulled back the blanket. His stomach looked worse than his arms did-- by the looks of the bandages a few ribs were shattered and his stomach was every shade of black and blue there was. It was sickening to think that he was at practice just the other day laughing and dancing. Natsume doesn’t want to look at him anymore. 

The image of Sora Harukawa with needles and IV drips in his arms haunted both Natsume and Tsumugi on the car ride home. The air was so heavy it could be cut with a knife and neither of them said a word to each other. 

They both decided to continue practicing through Sora’s absence. He brought light to the sessions, joking, laughing. Sora was the energy they never knew they so badly needed. Neither of them had a drive to continue practice without him. It never felt right. 

A week passed and Tsumugi was sitting in his usual spot, a book in hand, listening to the storm outside. Natsume came in at the usual time. He looked as though he missed a few nights of sleep, his eyes droopy and exhausted. Not looking up from the sentence he was reading, Tsumugi spoke, “Worrying senselessly like this isn’t good for you. You have to value your rest, Natsume~” 

He scoffed in return, brushing off his comment. He didn’t need his two cents right now, or ever, really. 

“Worrying senselessly won’t wake him up.” 

Something within him snapped, something strung up tight for a long time. He could say comments about his personality or whatever with no problem, but this struck a chord with him. He dropped his backpack on the ground and turned to his Senpai and spoke with venom in his voice. “I don’t see you worrying about him, now do I? You never cried for him or even remotely cared that he could die from This. You just don’t care and you know It.  _ You have no right to tell me what to Do.” _

He looked up from his book and met Natsumes eyes, fierce with anger. “Are you actually so blinded to say that I don’t care about Sora?” 

“You never reacted to any of This. You hardly seem Concerned.” 

Tsumugi stood up to talk to him face to face. “You’re so stubborn sometimes… You have no idea to deal with your own emotions so you regress and take it out on other people. We’re both in the same unit. I love Sora like a brother. I love  _ you  _ like a brother. It’s too bad you’re so wrapped up in your own story to realize that.” 

“Senpai--” 

“I’m not your enemy, Natsume. Not again.” With finality in his voice he moves towards the door and turn to face him before he exits. “Sora loves you more than you know, Natsume. You need to stop acting like this only affects you because you don’t know how you really feel.” 

The door slammed shut and echoed in Natsume’s brain. He stood there, vacantly, alone with his thoughts, only with the sound of the rain as his company. 

~

The hospital room was just as decorated as it has been the last time he visited. Natsume was alone this time. After thinking about it for a long time, he realized how much he needed to hear that. Most of the flowers scattered around his room were wilted by now. Sora laid there in the same position, his bruises only slightly healed. They were less discolored than they had been, which was a good sign. 

His mother was on a food run perhaps to get something that wasn’t from the nasty hospital kitchen. He closed the door and sat in the chair besides his bed and gazed at him again as he had done a while ago. This time, however, he wasn’t focused on how it could have been prevented. He was focused on sorting things out. 

Slowly he reached out to take Sora’s hand in his own. It was warmer than he thought it would have been. His hand was soft and delicate and it felt good to hold. 

For once in his life he apologized to Tsumugi for the way he acted. Despite his pride, he was able to admit that he was thinking the wrong way. He was attached to Sora in a way that he didn’t understand, a way that he couldn’t admit to himself. 

Slowly he rested Sora’s hand back on the bed and stood up to look at his face. There were bruises on his cheeks and yet they were still absolutely colorless. He was still just as beautiful as he was before he got hurt. He moved to brush Sora’s bangs back so he could press a soft kiss to his forehead. He mumbled a soft and inaudible, “I love you, Sora,” before moving to sit back in his chair. 

Holding his hand again, he knew that this was the right decision. It was unbecoming for a fortune teller to be confused about his emotions and having them cloud his thoughts. Tsumugi saw this ages before he himself was able to. It was as if everything was falling back into place. 

A part of him thought he was imagining it or hallucinating it. He felt a small, soft, perfect little hand squeeze his own. 

His eyes fluttered open. 


End file.
